postercoaster
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“It’s okay. I know it’s… hard for you.”
“Yeah,” Mike exhales through his mouth. With the way Will is spread out on the bed, his shorts have ridden up on his thighs and it’s making it hard to breathe—Will is all comfortable and unguarded, and Mike can sense more than see the vein running up the side of his knee, along his inner thigh and then even higher up.
Mike’s eyes rest there for a second. He imagines following the scent, his nose pressed to Will’s skin. Pushing the fabric of his shorts out of the way, all the way up to his groin. Burying his teeth just underneath the junction of it, where the skin is softest and the vein pulsing warmest.
Or, Mike returns from the Upside Down changed, with a newfound hunger for blood—Will’s blood, specifically. It’s getting harder and harder to resist.
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Will is trying to move on.
A night out at a midnight shadow cast performance of The Rocky Horror Picture Show seems like a good start: outrageous costumes, bizarre traditions, and a cute guy who might just be worth giving a chance. For the first time in a long while, Will is ready to step into the world—and maybe even into something new.
What he doesn’t expect is seeing the one person he can’t stop thinking about standing under the stage lights—in fishnets, a corset, and looking entirely too good.
Suddenly, moving on is the last thing on Will's mind.
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A polaroid lies face down, stark white against the carpet. Will crouches, breath already unsteady, and turns it over. His breath caught in his throat as the image came into focus, sending a jolt straight through him. Mike's jeans strained visibly against the thick bulge at his crotch, the denim stretched taut over an unmistakable erection.
Dear Will,
If you wanted to see me with a boner, you could've asked instead of drawing it.
Love, MikeOR
Will accidentally gifts Mike an erotic drawing of him, Mike returns the favor by sending him polaroid evidence of what his boners really look like.
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Bookmarked by postercoaster
29 May 2026
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Mike is waiting for Will in the basement, a look of suspicious, nervous excitement on his face. He cleared the table and laid out upon it are two card games.
"Now, I know you’ll resist," Mike blurts out, stepping toward him. "But I think this will be good. For both of us! For when we... you know,” Mike trails off, “When we get partners.”
Will scoffs, stepping closer to inspect the titles.
Spill or Sip and Truth, Dare, or Strip.
Or: Mike suggests a spicy card game to help Will loosen up before college. It works a little too well, and suddenly they’re gambling with unresolved feelings, and clothes, that were meant to stay in place.
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“Just saying, if you’re taking another hit, you should share it with me,” Mike says, and Will slowly tilts his head, drinking in every word. “It just makes sense. Like, mathematically.”
Will’s reddened eyes narrow, bewildered. “Mathematically?”
“If there’s two hits left, we’d each only get one,” Mike explains. “But if we shotgunned, we’d both get two.” God, this is the best idea he’s had in ages. He should’ve stolen Will’s weed, like, months ago. “That’s like, bang for your buck. This is simple math, Will Byers. Keep up.”
In which it’s well past midnight in New York, Will can’t sleep, and Mike feels like they barely know each other anymore.
So, they get a little high. Mike is very normal about all of it.
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Bookmarked by postercoaster
18 May 2026